


allentine drabbles

by cumberverse



Category: Constantine (TV), DC - Fandom, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, y'all like rarepares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 11:12:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberverse/pseuds/cumberverse
Summary: bunch of aus i made and wrote for my my close friend barry.





	allentine drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> based off the song "please don't jump, it's christmas" by dallon weekes.

                Sitting in your apartment, the night before Christmas, worrying about your best friend isn't anyone's idea of fun.  
  
        Barry currently sat in his modest apartment, on the almost painfully normally couch he owned, rolling his phone between his hands. He knew John wasn't good at picking up his phone, he shouldn't worry.  
  
        But, it's Christmas time. Barry knows John's got issues, even if he didn't know what they were, he knows that they exist. Everyone knows that John Constantine isn't okay. It's painfully obvious, even to the blind.  
  
        John, being horribly out of character, once confessed to Barry while under the influence of a lot of alcohol that he hated Christmas. That time of the year was the most lonely for him, he felt trapped by the ghosts that hung around him and the thoughts of his childhood. The only time he said that he's ever had a good Christmas was back with his band, before Newcastle.  
  
        "Not even my Christmas with Supes was good. He tried to get me into a stereotypical Christmas cheer, I felt like shit. I can't deal with that shite." John slurred.  
  
        "What can you deal with then?" Barry asked.  
  
        "A beer, a small Christmas tree maybe, a fire, and maybe someone who doesn't make me feel guilty."  
  
        "Who's that?" Barry asked carefully.  
  
        John stayed there for a second, a weird look crossing over his face. "You don't have to answe-"  
  
        "You, probably." John said, then took a long drink of his beer.  
  
        Barry relived the memory, wondering if he should've invited John over beforehand instead of now. He stared at his phone, finger hovering over the call button. A nervous twitch of his thumb and the phone was calling.  
  
                                ____  
  
                 _Ring....ring.....ring_  
  
        "Someone turn the bloody fire alarm off." John said.  
  
        "John, that's your phone."  
  
        "Oh."  
  
        "Dumbass"  
  
        "Shut up an' piss of I 'on' want you lot 'roun' me." John said, fumbling to find his phone.  
  
        "It's in your left breast pocket."  
  
        John huffed, and extracted his phone from the pocket. "Now piss off." He said.  
  
        He knew they didn't leave, he felt their eyes boring into the back of his body.  
  
        "Hello?" He slurred into the phone.  
  
        "John? Are you okay?" The worried voice of Barry Allen asked through the phone.  
  
        John didn't answer. Instead took a moment to assess the situation he was in.  
  
        Currently: John Constantine sat on the roof of a six story building. How he got there? Well, let's just say he charmed a few men and women to let him up there. A large bottle of jack daniel's currently resided in his hand, and another was smashed some teen feet behind him. He took a long drink from the bottle in his hand, wanting to get so drunk he could forget the eyes that watched him constantly.  
  
        "John?" Barry asked.  
  
        "Yah?" John asked.  
  
        "Are you okay?"  
  
        John shrugged, then realized Barry couldn't see it. "Why do you ask?"  
  
        "It's Christmas." Barry said.  
  
        That's why John was up here, he remembered. He fucking hated this season. "Thanks for the reminder, luv." He said, voice dropping.  
  
        "Oh, I'm sorry for the reminde-"  
  
        "Don't be." John said, taking a long swig from the bottle, "You don't know what ah know."  
  
        There was a good few moments of silence. "Do you want to come over?" Barry asked softly.  
  
        John considered it, losing his trail of thought multiple times and having to retalk himself back to consider that before saying "No."  
  
        "Will you be okay alone?"  
  
        John laughed bitterly. "I'm never alone, Barry. You know this."  
  
        "Stop being rude, whoever's on the phone is trying to help."  
  
        "Piss off you wanker, I don't fuckin' want you around me right now. Go bother someone else's miserable life. I'm too busy trying not to fuckin' kill me'self right now to deal with your bullshit." John spat.  
  
        "You're doing what now?" Barry asked, alarmed.  
  
        "Nothing."  
  
        "Stop lyin', John."  
  
        "You stop being an annoyance, Gaz. No one fuckin' asked for you to be here." John said.  
  
        There was silence between the three men.  
  
        Barry broke the silence. "I'm coming over."  
  
        "Okay." John said, going with it.  
  
        He wasn't anywhere near his home, so Barry would be showing up to an empty flat. John couldn't care less. He didn't want saving.  
  
        "Don't hang up until I'm over there."  
  
        "Okay." John repeated.  
  
        "John. I mean it." Barry said.  
  
        "I know you do."  
  
        And with that, John chucked the phone off the roof. He wasn't hanging up, he was just destroying his entire phone.  
  
        "You're fucking stupid, Johnny." Gaz said.  
  
        "Says you." John spat back.  
 

___

  
        Barry pulled the phone from his ear the moment he heard the loud whistling of wind. He looked out the window and saw... no wind whatsoever.  
  
        "John!" He nearly shouted into the phone, now panicking.  
  
        No answer.  
  
        That's it.  
  
        Barry dashed from his apartment.  
  
        Somewhere between point a (Barry's apartment) and point b (John's apartment), The Flash  ~~costume~~  suit made it's way onto Barry's body. Force of habit probably. Though it made it easier for the man to run at max speed to get to John's apartment. Upon arrival he found no body; no broken phone; and no indication that anything bad was happening.  
  
        The next step was to get into John's apartment. Which, was relatively easy. John didn't have the funds for a nice apartment, so he lived in one of the shitter ones in city. Merely mentioning to the lady at the front desk that he was here to stop someone from committing allowed him to run up to John's apartment. He practically broke the door open and searched the apartment.  
  
        Nothing.  
  
        John wasn't here.  
  
        Now the panic really started to hit him.  
  
        He bolted back out, not even speaking to the lady at the front desk. Now he had to search the entire city for where ever John was. Central City wasn't exactly a small city, but even with Barry's speed it'd take longer than he'd like to admit to search everywhere for John.  
 

___

  
        "What're you going to do when he shows up?" Gary asked.  
  
        "Probably throw this at 'im." John said, taking a swig.  
  
        "You do know he's not dead, right?"  
  
        John shrugged. "It'll drive him off."  
  
        "You're fucked up, Johnny."  
  
        "I know."  
  
        John laid back, legs still dangling, and he now stared up at the sad fucking face of Gary Lester. Who stared back down at John's equally depressed face. "I'd tell you to call someone for help but you threw your phone off the building like the fuckin' retard you are."  
  
        John laughed, it wasn't funny, he wasn't laughing anything sweet. It was dry, bitter, and filled with too much sadness. "Oi, least I didn't throw me'self off, eh?"  
  
        Gary stared for a moment before laughing a bit. "Right, like you don't deserve that."  
  
        The two broke out laughing at that. Apparently John's death was funny to them. "When you die, I hope you burn in hell for your many sins, Johnny."  
  
        "Thanks, you too." John giggled.  
  
        He cheered with the bottle, then drank till it was empty. "Now  ** _fuck off._** "  
  
        Gary and John held eye contact for a few moments. "Merry Christmas, John."  
  
        "You too, luv."  
  
        Gary left.  
  
        John was alone. So terribly fucking alone.  
 

___

  
        Barry found him, finally.  
  
        The British man laid back, legs dangling off the ledge. Hair sticking up every which way, his trench coat looked stained and worse for wear. John held the bottle above his head, arms stretched out. He looked vacant, probably not even realizing what he was doing.  
  
        "John...?" Barry said tentatively.  
  
        John shot up, wobbled a bit, then turned and chucked the bottle straight at Barry. Barry dodged, thanks to the speed, but was emotionally hit by that. Why would John ever throw something at him.  
  
        Oh. Looking at John face on showed that his face was puffy and red, clearly he'd been crying and the look of fear written on his face showed that Barry scared him. "I'm sorry for scaring you." He said.  
  
        John relaxed, then turned to face away from him. "'Ere to be me prince charmin'?" John asked.  
  
        "No, I'm here to help you." Barry said.  
  
        A pained laugh escaped John. "'Elp me? Barry, luv, you can't help me." He said.  
  
        "If you let me, I can. I can get you help." He said, taking a step forward.  
  
        "Don't come near me." John said, warning Barry.  
  
        Barry stopped. He wouldn't test John. The silence that settled between them was deafening. "Leave me alone, Barry." John said softly.  
  
        "No." Barry replied.  
  
        "I ain't worth it. Go spend time with your friends, with the league, with whomever, just leave me alone." John said weakly, "Please."  
  
        "Not while you're like this. I'm not leaving you." Barry said.  
  
        If Barry didn't hear the choked sob that John, he'd still know the male was now crying. He was shaking. Barry felt his heart being torn apart. John was crying, on a ledge, contemplating whether it's worth it to go on or not.  
  
        "Don't do this, John, please. I need you here."  
  
        John didn't reply but he didn't need to, the worsening of his cries was enough of a reply.  
  
        Barry started forward, trying to walk as lightly as possible, he didn't want to scare John into jumping.   
  
        It wasn't enough, in a swift move, John pushed himself off. Barry took off, speeding down the side of the building, launching himself off the building and colliding into John's body, holding him as they crashed to the ground.  
 

___

  
        Barry was the first to wake up. Actually he woke before he was carried into the Ambulance. Which he managed to fight (not literally) his way out of. John, on the other hand, wasn't.  
  
        He was unconscious and most likely wouldn't wake for a while.  
  
        So, Barry rode with him to the hospital. The paramedics thought it weird, having the Flash in the ambulance with them, but he said he needed to be there, so they let him. And he didn't bother with them.  
  
        Once arriving to the hospital, the doctor's said he had to leave, he wasn't a family member, and he couldn't stay.  
  
        A very pissed off Barry Allen made his way back to his apartment. Checking the phone that he left on his couch showed that he had missed five calls from the hospital.  
  
        "Hello?" He asked, after redialing.  
  
        "Hi, is this Mr. Barry Allen?"  
  
        "Yes, that's me." He said.  
  
        "Hi, this is nurse Shelby from the local hospital. You've been listed as an emergency contact for John Constantine, and well..." The woman paused.  
  
        "Well, what?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.  
  
        "He just arrived to the hospital. The Flash had saved him from a suicide attempt and we're keeping him here. We need you to come in." She said.  
  
        "Alright." He said, voice breaking.  
  
        "I'm sorry, Mr. Allen."  
  
        "Don't be." Barry replied, then hung up.  
  
        John was rubbing off on the blond and making him just as bitter.  
 

___

  
        Barry sat in a chair, next to John's bed. He was leaning forward, arms crossed next to John's body and his head laying in the space between his arms.  
  
        The doctors had told him they weren't sure if he'd wake, apparently, when they fell and crashed to the ground, John had hit his head. That, mixed with his blood alcohol content, made it unclear when he'd wake.  
  
        "Give us time and we'll have more information for you, Mr. Allen. For now, I suggest you sit with John." The doctor said.  
  
        "They say people in a coma can hear everything you say to them. Talk to him, he needs it." The nurse said, as she lead Barry back to John's room.  
  
        "You really believe that?" Barry asked back.  
  
        She nodded, a sort of positive shine in her eyes, "I don't just believe it, I know it." She said.  
  
        Barry would question her more, though he lacked the energy to do so. "Thank you." He said.  
  
        "You're very welcome." She said, smiling softly at him, "Say hello to John for me."  
  
        And with that, she shut the door.  
  
        "Can you hear me, John?" Barry asked softly.  
  
        No response.  
  
        Barry laughed, a small few puffs of air leaving his mouth. "No, you can't reply. Sorry for asking." He said.  
  
        Silence. "John, you're a fool. A big fool. Like a massive fool." He said.  
  
        Barry could almost hear the "Gee thanks" John would've said back. It hurt like hell when that response never came.  
  
        Barry sat up, staring at John. That's when this whole situation started to hit him. He took John's hand in his, slowly rubbing his thumb over the back of John's calloused hands. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.  _This isn't real, Barry, you're having a bad dream._  He told himself. He knew he was wrong.  
  
        "You're not a fool, you're stupid, and daring, and lonely, and hurt. I can't say I'm not surprised, but I can't say i never thought of this happening."  
  
        Barry ran his thumb over John's hand, not just staying to the back of his palm. "I know you never like reaching out, it's not in your nature. You isolate yourself, pretend everything is okay, and then when it's too much for you to suppress, you break. And this happens.  
  
        "Well, maybe it doesn't. I don't know if you've ever tried this before. I hope you haven't. You don't deserve this pain, John."  
  
        Barry stopped, feeling a pit grow in his throat. He couldn't talk much, he wasn't even sure what to say. "I love you, John." He said softly.  
  
        Tears slid down his face, hanging at his chin before landing on John's hand. "I love you so much, and it kills me to see you like this." He choked out.  
  
        "Please, wake up. I need you here, John." He said.  
  
        Barry laid back down, this time his arm was awkwardly out to the side, to keep his hand joined with John's. "Please, don't leave me." He begged, crying.  
  
        There was no answer, Barry didn't expect one.  
  
        Though, you could suppose that the steady heart beat coming from the monitor was an answer enough. Proving that John was still indeed alive, and that he wouldn't be going anywhere.  
  
        Barry got onto the bed, as much as he could. He buried his head into John's shoulder, still crying. "I love you." He whispered, "and the nurse says hi."


End file.
